


Navy

by Lovinglarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: DIY, Feels, Fluff, Louis and Liam deliveryboys, M/M, Smut, Zayn is an artist, eh, harry loves flowers, stuff involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovinglarry/pseuds/Lovinglarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn is obsessed with colours, Harry never wears t shirts, and what the fuck Niall Horan? Louis didn’t ask to be swamped into that crazy trio and Liam managed to escape from it just in time.</p><p>Really they aren’t made to work at all.</p><p>And if you look thouroughlly into things, you could blame all of this on Liam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Navy

**Author's Note:**

> It’s Zarry, with some friendship, (turned into this nearly 10k worded monster), a bit of feels and like three lines of smut. 
> 
> Hope you like it :) (if anyone could help me beta my works it’d be awesome!)

Sky blue or maybe azure blue. Zayn was not so sure. Sky blue, blue-green, turquoise. Cerulean.

He studied and developed all possible shades of that colour. Collects it in a million kind of different coloured pencils. Fills each grids of his notebook with any brand new pen he can lay his hands on. He could write pages and pages about the difference between light blue, and sky blue. Between the colour of the sky and the ocean.

Mixing them simply does not work . He can’t reproduce this powerful blue that he had once the honour of laying his eyes on. That colour both soft and deep. Simple but intriguing.

He used tons of sketches, canvases and paper sheets. Sometimes he looks at his notebook, and has to resist the urge to pull everything apart. He spent his years studying colours, trying to discover the hidden ones, secret blends and perfect alliances.

But for the past month, he’s been thinking so little of himself. He thought he had discovered about the deepest secrets of art, but nature had apparently still so much more to offer.

-x-

Propped on his little balcony, leaving just enough room for a small table and two chairs, Zayn watches the people passing by. He was lucky enough to get an apartment facing the sun at its zenith, thus seeing it in its rise. He was also facing the street, living just above a fairly busy supermarket.

One thing Zayn was absolutely not missing was the animation. Cars zigzagging on the narrow street, passers themselves, moving from point A to B while avoiding said vehicles and other tangible masses.

There were a few recognizable faces. Like the pretty blonde girl, walking her dog every day between noon and twelve forty five. This has been going on for a year. Every new week for her meant new hair colour. It was kind of weird, but cute at the same time.

Her eyes were a common blue, but large and sparkling. Zayn could reproduce the eye colour right on his first try. He was proud.

The florist on the opposite street had gorgeous green eyes. And a nasty habit of working shirtless. (But Zayn also worked naked most of the time. He felt … more expressive that way.)

Harry. Harry Styles. A young and dumb boy, who has never studied anything other than his passion for flowers. He never sets foot outside his shop without having a thin daisy or petunia braided in the crown of his curly hair. They were by the way a very dark brown, which was often mistaken for black, but Zayn could clearly male out the light blond streaks that the sun highlighted perfectly.

Any time he’d step out of his shop to line a few pots on his railings, Harry would raise his large sparkling green eyes, braided flowers pushing his curls back, and wave hi at Zayn.

There was also Mrs Franquin, who was his next door neighbour. Hard gossip lady and a pain in the neck sometimes, but she was still lovely to hang around. Zayn could not see the colour of her eyes under her tired and marked wrinkles, but she assured him there was a time when all men fell for her eyes that sported a rare violet shade. Since this, Harry nicknamed her Elizabeth Taylor, or Liz simply, and said she was his role model.

Liz beamed whenever Harry came to her door to offer her a bouquet of nearly out of date flowers that he didn’t manage to sell. But Zayn suspected that this enthusiasm was due to the two swallows tattooed on the curly boy’s very naked torso. He never wore plain t shirts. Hoodies two sizes too big and jeans ripped at the knees is his only motto.

Zayn sometimes wondered how Harry could live like that. But he automatically reminded himself that he was in a similar situation. He sold very few of his paintings , for the simple reason that he did not put them frequently on the market. He felt like he sold a piece of himself whenever he was separated from one of his paintings. He had to find another ways to pay his rent.

He was lucky to come across Niall. He literally fell across him. He was looking for a new brand of paint the small DIY store had ordered last week. Niall worked for his uncle, section wall paint and wallpaper.

An artist of some sorts.

His hard work required him to wear old clothes that had no great value, but he could still pull off a very distinguished street wear style when he wanted .

(Zayn is still fascinated by his wide range of snapbacks and supras .)

Nevertheless, at his workplace, he wore worn out converse , and overalls that were three sizes too big, and so stained in paint that you couldn’t even see the original colour of the fabric. But he looked so cute, cuddly in it that the rest didn’t matter.

Zayn wanted to try the famous bottles that apparently contained a revolutionary paint that pulled off a glossy effect on certain materials. He stood on a stool , determined to find the bottles on his own when a foot came in contact with his little pedestal. He lost his balance and knocked over a few rows of bottles along the way.

“Oops , you alright mate?”

 _Cerulean_ Zayn replied . The young man with a small golden nameplate pinned on his chest stood up , shaking off some invisible dust from his clothes. Zayn did the same.

“We have some if you if you want. Blue. Cerulean, I’m not sure but …” 

His cheeks had taken a beautiful peach tint that contrasted deliciously with his pale skin .

“I … no, it’s not what I’m looking for. No.”

Zayn smiled , just for the sake of seeing the blond blush a shade darker. He sighed contently, noting that it had worked .

Niall, as his nameplate said, momentarily scratched the back of his head before dropping his arm by his sides.

“Then how I can help you?”

“If you can help me find a colour from this row fairly similar to your eyes, then you can be proud to have taken part in my next piece of work .”

Niall laughed nervously, scratching his head again. But he stayed twenty-two minutes with Zayn to help him find what he was looking for. In the end, Zayn didn’t get his brand new paint, but he found inspiration, new shades of blue to mix and most importantly, a new friend.

-x-

“Why won’t you throw yourself into a career ? You’d probably do better than a two roomed flat with a sofa bed and a mini bathroom?”

“You’d probably do better than a two roomed flat with a mattress on the floor.”

Zayn stuck his tongue out. Harry brought him a red hyacinth, finely cut at the stem . He filled a glass of water and gently put the flower inside, before putting his improvised vase down on the small table in the balcony. He crashed down in front of Zayn, container on his knees and fork in hand.

He spent every lunch break with Zayn. Always a cold pasta salad with a drop of vinaigrette and chunks of grilled chicken breasts. Zayn didn’t share his meal with him, always hooking his knees over the ramp instead, his legs dangling in the air. He then would light a cigarette, stick it in the corner of his mouth and have another smartly tucked on top of his ear.

“I love it that way. I don’t need TV or the internet or anything else as fancy. I have me pasta.”

He stabs a torsade with his fork. The handle was pink, and broken, but Harry, stubborn Harry didn’t want to get rid of it. And God knows how many times, Niall tried to discreetly throw it at the bottom of the dust bin .

“And me sisters.”

He gestures to his flower shop , which was closed between noon and two , the “Styles and Flower crowns ” in italics at the top of the door shining proudly in the light of the sun. Zayn did not understand how they let Harry choose _that_ name, but there were many things that Harry did that no one understood . The people in general had adopted his strange mannerisms and strange way of talking.

Harry was normal, it was the people around him that were not.

“You already have one. By the way, you need to call her. If only you bought a phone like I told you to.”

“Gemma is a ray of sunshine. Whenever she visits me, all my flowers stand straighter, to show how beautifully they’ve grown . Anyway I sent her a letter three days ago. M’waiting for her to respond .”

“How sweet!” Zayn replied sarcastically. He was on his thirty seventh sketch of Harry . Each was unique and simple.

A simple drawing of his collarbone , or the line of his neck. Zayn varied his pencil strokes, and no matter much time it took him , he would never stop drawing Harry.

Today, he was sketching the halo that his brown hair blond and red highlights was , pulled back this time with a shirt attached around his head. His torso was again, missing a shirt.

Hopefully he had enough common sense to dress fully when it got colder.

Harry looked up at him , his cheeks round and filled with his lunch. Zayn met his gaze for a moment , detailing the thin black ring circling the green iris of his eyes. This was another one of Harry’s features. Even his eyes , had their own history.

Zayn couldn’t get enough of drawing Harry. Especially his eyes. He stopped counting after the thirteenth time .

-x-

“Bye and have a good evening !”

Zayn handed heavy bags to the young lady, who probably took DIY a bit too seriously, judging by her shopping. He hoped she wouldn’t do too badly if she tried to renew her home on her own.

He sighed, waiting for the next customer, but opened his notebook again , to fill some new square grids in. Niall had brought him the turquoise pencil, he had stolen (“Borrowed Zayn . Without the intention of taking it back “) from the nursery where he had been called up to touch-up the paint.

Blue was a colour that Niall loved. The case of his phone was blue, his car, his duvet, walls, plates, carpet, computer and even his entire sock drawer . He made no justice to this colour, simply because he loved it .

He also convinced his uncle to hire Zayn, who had no resume, no experience and no taste for architecture and construction. But their simple twin obsession with colour was apparently enough of an excuse for the young blond .

Zayn found himself behind the cash register to scan dozens of hammers and paint rollers before he even had the time to think twice about Niall’s offer.

It was his motto. No more than one pack per week. That made an average amount of two and a third day. Unless Harry nicked one from his packet after his dashing pasta and chicken. Luxurious

Zayn fuelled with fast food . Fast healthy food. Like lentil salad with five veggies and dried fruits. Or a beetroot salad. He sometimes splurged and order a pizza or two. But since that one restaurant opened nearby, Zayn hasn’t been using his cooker for over six months.

He even had his regular deliveryman. Liam didn’t greet him with the “Amanda ‘s fresh Good, fresh food , good evening, may I take your order? ” anymore but with a ” Hi, how are you? “

Liam was ambitious. He still lived with his parents, but was majoring in music . He gave a few lessons and sang in a few bars, but worked for Amanda to pay his college fees.

His parents accepted his choice of career , but refused to help him through it. Liam was doing pretty well , he even had his small fair share of celebrity. But he remained down to earth and added extra free sauce bags in people’s orders.

When Liam arrives at his door with his small delivery van, it’s with a ridiculous cap on his head, and a green and white striped shirt that does absolutely not mix well with his skin tone . But he still has that big smile plastered on his face as if he was the happiest person in the world.

" Hi Zayn ! How are you ? " He repeats , holding his paper bag out. He never went further than the door. It was something they had been taught to work. Do not enter in other people’s houses. Zayn respected that even though it did not bother him that much if Liam trespassed into his flat.

After all, his brown always crinkled eyes due to his never lasting broad smile , could only mean that he had good intentions. Liam was a nice lad. Zayn wished only the best for him.

-x-

Zayn could hear Liz giggle from the inside of his bathroom . Harry had probably given her a bouquet of some orange flower with small petals. He sighs, seeing that he will soon have to refill his cabinet of toilet paper and washes his hands .

Thirty seconds later , there are two soft knocks at the door.

Hof course it’s Harry, wearing a grey sweater. Too big for him, as usual.

He’s holding his shabby and worn out travel bag that still looks fairly usable (by a suspicious miracle).

“I finished . I’m going home.”

“Oh no.” Zayn pouted . “You don’t want to stay here tonight?”

“I need to feed Dusty . And get meself a phone. I don’t like not hearing your voice before I sleep”

“If that can help, I can record my voice, on your old tape Walkman thingy. That way you’ll hear me. The only problem is you have to rewind.”

Harry giggled a few minutes before slowly getting his breath back. He leaned over , putting one of his large hands under Zayn’s jawline .

“I’ll make it up to you this weekend.” He whispered before closing the distance between their lips . Harry always kissed passionately. He always kept one hand on Zayn either on his shoulder , his cheek or his hip while they swapped saliva and did a few things with their tongues .

Zayn would always end up pressed against the wall, Harry’s hands dancing under his shirt, (if his conscience had made him wear one. Otherwise, Harry slid his hands into his pants) while clutching the fine curls that grew messily on the back of Harry’s neck . After a few seconds of semi-public groping , Harry would kiss him chastely this time , a simple peck on the lips, before lustfully gazing at Zayn while their limbs were slowly detangling.

If there is one thing that Zayn loved , after the way their lips turned cherry red and slightly swollen , it was to admire the curly boy’s grown pupil, huge from the arousal.

“See you tomorrow.” He says softly. He takes his bag that had slipped from his shoulder and turns away.

-x-

Zayn has his routine every morning.

A glass of warm milk without sugar because it has not bought anymore since the last empty box . ( He constantly forgets that he lives right above a provider of food and supplies, like those freaking toilet rolls he still needs .)

Half a cigarette and then some sketches.

In this period of late spring , he sometimes gives himself the pleasure of lying around in the sun , pushing his couch to face the large window in the corner .

The apartment is spacious but cluttered. With a bar separating the living room and kitchen, and a door leading to the bathroom and toilet. He was lucky to have found that much with his tiny savings .

Harry lived in a similar place, but with a bedroom, where he had broken his bed to turn it into a shelter for his cat. And the few hundreds of books he owned.

Zayn draws the curve of the hips of miss trots, as Zayn named her. His hair was grey this week. But it didn’t look dirty or kind of oldish. No it actually looked quite good on her. She was jogging , pulling her dog by the leash, mind occupied by the earphones that covered her ears.

Zayn wondered what kind of music she listened to. Probably pop or shitty stuff like that . In any case, her daily exercises were only good for her, rewarding her with a flat stomach and toned legs.

Harry, opens his shop at eight, and closes at eleven fifty seven, in the meantime of finding another ” follower of the flowerism ” (” Seriously Harry - . You don’t understand the big words Zayn “) that can handle his loved buds during his lunch period.

He then walks to the third floor , his picnic in hand, and a new accessory pushing his hair back . This time, he had , or at least tried to bring his hair back with an elastic band, his pair of sunglasses resting on the top of his skull .

“You could make an announcement?”

“You could open a gallery?”

Zayn sighed around his cigarette, releasing a puff of tobacco.

“I’ll know him or her, when the right person will come to me” Says Harry. This time , his pasta were bowtie shaped

“Who would come to see my drawings? Incomplete and uninteresting ?”

“I’ll be there . And Niall too”

Zayn shook his head.

“Thanks … but no.”

It was not a good idea.

-x-

“Weyhey ! I’m going to put paper on Allison James’s walls . She was like my crush in high school. People say she’s preggers and all! I remember she rejected me cause I wasn’t attractive enough . But I’m hot eh ? Am I right?”

“I guess she couldn’t handle your sexiness.” Zayn replies dryly , eyeing those damn overalls that Niall loved way too much, in Zayn’s opinion , splashed with some new stain that you didn’t really want to know where it was coming from. Zayn didn’t think Niall was unattractive , no. Niall was kind hot, and cute and Zayn would have definitely had fun chasing after his pretty round ass. If Harry and his wide mouth wasn’t as much of a distraction.

But anyway, Niall was very straight (a little bit too much if you ask Zayn ), even though he had expressed in a very loving but drunken way the beauty that was Zayn’s face . He started on his chiselled cheekbones, and then proceeded to compose poems about the olive colour of his skin and the perfect rows of his white teeth. There is no in between, and no way to stop him.

A smashed Niall was always very entertaining, except when he stood very close to you, telling you how beautiful you are.

“I know you stare at me bum when I’m painting the back room . I see you . I have a 360 degree peripheral vision .”

He pulled a flat brush out of one of his huge pockets and used it as a pretend weapon. Zayn rolled his eyes, annoyed , but it did not hide his affection for the young painter .

-x-

Harry did not sleepover that night again (seriously , it’s been more than a month ) , so Zayn calls Amanda , sad, hungry and cranky due to the lack of sex.

" Amanda ‘s fresh food, fresh Good, good evening, Louis here, I’m listening. "

Zayn blinked , gripping his phone tightly.

"Uh … is anyone there? " Said the voice. Rather high for a man, with a sharp accent even though it didn’t beat Niall’s.

“I want er … uh .. . Good evening.”

Zayn clears his throat . He was so accustomed to Liam that he forgot how formal conversations between customers and employees were in the first place .

“Oh hello ! My name is Louis ! I’m the new delivery boy, but that you probably don’t want to know , I’ll take your order.”

Zayn had just hung up when an alarm started ringing in his mind.

New deliveryman. What happened to Liam ? Usually when Liam called in sick or something, Justine took over . But it was Dan who delivered, a lovely boy really, but a bit too dull.

His eyes were also brown , but not _Liam_ brown.

Food came five minutes later than usual. Probably because L o u i s was new and did not know the area yet.

He rang the doorbell , longingly , unlike Liam who knocked timidly . Zayn was ready to hate this new dude before he even had the time to see his face .

When swung the door open, he wished he hadn’t craved cherry tomato sticks that night.

-x-

It all goes back to the beginning. Zayn stuck on the most beautiful pair of eyes he would never see again .

He had not dared to call the restaurant in fear of falling on that same person. Harry was amused by the situation, in any case, not helping Zayn at all.

He by the way continued to eat pasta at noon, and still wait for the prince charming of his flowers.

Niall had , as the rumour ran, humiliated Allison, who jumped on him before he even knew what was happening . Now he had become somewhat friends with Josh , ex boyfriend of said Alli, who was raising her child on her own (the lad who knocked her up left her when he found out she was cheating on him with Josh. Yes. )

Liz always laughs out loud as soon as Harry rings her doorbell, bouquet in his hands.

Everything was normal yet … Zayn tore his hair out of his head. He had no news of Liam , it’s not like they had a great friendship, but to this date Zayn regretted not having been able to deepen their relationship.

What if something bad had happened to him ?

Louis meanwhile, was the source of all problems.

Zayn had bought boxes of pencils, pallets and bottles of paint . None of these instruments satisfied him.

Teal, turquoise , sky, royal . Sea or ocean. Cerulean ? Zayn used that word way too much.

He made dozens of sketches, filled hundreds of small squares in his notebook and yet it wasn’t blending correctly.

“Why are you so obsessed with him?” Harry said one day. He himself was on the verge of exasperation. He loved Zayn very much and had a lot of patience and consideration towards him. But it was becoming tiresome. Even for him.

“I can’t do it. And I don’t like to can’t.”

Harry took him in his arms then , whispering softly.

-x-

“Ahahaha ! Tosser !”

Niall’s been shouting for a quarter of an hour after the small TV set in the break room . He recently finished the walls , and even brought a small television , claiming that the room was too empty . Too sad .

“Niall please, stop yelling , you’re making me colour over the lines.”

Zayn was acting like a kid, filling his grids, wanting it to be perfect. He’s finished another page today. Which makes it more than half of his notebook. That’s way much more than he usually does .

It’s getting kind of compulsive .

“But I love this! It’s so funny off ! See that guy there? He was singing alright , but then he forgot his lyrics. There are some other okay people too , yeah .”

“What is it? I’m a moron because they made me believe I could become a successful singer factor ?”

“The _xfactor_ it’s awesome! So many people !”

He opens a can of beer that Zayn is mad sure he did not have in his hands seconds before, and takes a long sip.

“Look there that group already made it through.”

Zayn turns his head towards the set, just in time to catch a glimpse of a group of boys on a stage , holding microphones in their hands.

“This is crapshit .” He says simply , shaking his head . Anyways , a customer has just entered the store and it’s actually great.

-x-

Harry finally sleeps at Zayn’s . The heat starts to become unbearable , and Zayn’s stack of colours decreases faster than the ice in his glass of water.

Harry, who would’ve probably cooked pasta if Zayn let him, was holding the phone like a madman, ordering a dish.

“Hello Justine !” He says, a little bit too loudly

“Can you turn your voice down” Zayn groans him for his corner, his hands busy with a paint brush.

Twenty-seven minutes later , Harry has a heart attack. Not literally, but … he could’ve jumped to the ceiling all the same

…

“Gosh .”

Harry’s still shaking after devouring (yes that was the word ) the way L o u i s had stared at him .

Zayn wouldn’t even have known it was him, if Harry hadn’t dropped his voice three or four octaves deeper.

Soon the two young men were finding it a hard thing to resist the urge to drag the boy inside to examine his finest looks.

“And by fine , I mean naked . Bouncing on my –“

“Stop right there. Not while I’m eating.” Zayn cut Harry off, biting a slice of grilled chicken. Well hello there, pasta and chicken.

“Pretty sure I came in my pants the second he laid his eyes on me!”

“I guess him too when he saw that huge butterfly inked on you. Seriously, how do you manage to eat this stuff all the time? I would have already wrapped myself in a tortilla and rolled right into hell if I had to eat pasta twice in the same week.”

Harry wasn’t even listening anymore. He was still busy writing haikus inside his head of the perfect shape that was the butt of the deliveryman.

Zayn sometimes wondered if he and Harry were really going somewhere in their relationship. Or if they were just a semicolon in the line of their lives.

-x-

Harry goes to Zayn’s workplace. Still without shirt . The heat is breaking records today. So he kind of can walk around shirtless.

Since the agitated Louis moment, Harry was also determined to find that perfect blue. He roamed about, between the store shelves , ignoring Zayn’s sharp sighs who insisted he walked these aisles a million times. Harry would find nothing there .

Stubborn and deaf, Harry threw a whole shelf of bottled paint in his baskey.

Niall , who was singing at the top of his voice, still addicted to that show for freaks , didn’t hear the scream Zayn let out at the sight of Harry’s folded arms. Loaded. Even that word was weak.

…

“If we ever make it . You’re opening an art gallery. Look at all this Z , it’s beautiful !”

Harry pushes a canvas away with his toe , preferring to have in front of him a jar filled with brushes.

“It’s spoiled stuff . Nobody would want that .”

“If I could get naked and roll on your paintings forever, trust me I would. But I respect them way too much.”

“How did I even begin to like you ?”

Harry wore a simple headband today. Simple, but pink . Matching with his jeans , three sizes too small and tore at both knees .

He attacked his first drawing , humming that stupid ‘I’m blue’ song he had heard on the radio during one of his many compulsive shopping sessions. This time, he bought a huge hat, as wide as a parasol, black and ugly. He looked more like a bohemian hipster rabbi, rather than just a regular citizen.

“You’re wasting your time Harry. You’re not even using the right colours. It won’t do anything good.”

“Excuse you, we’re not all experts here . Couloursperts.”

“You should be though. Are your cherished blossoms black and white or what.”

“Bleh whatever .” Harry muttered as he mixed more colours together. Still the wrong ones .

He slowly put his brush down after his fifth try and pursed his lips.

“I think it’s not working.”

“Ah !” Zayn clapped his hands.

“He’s gonna have to come here , so we can finally end this .”

He raises his hand, inches away from the phone.

“NO!”

Zayn, a tad faster than grandpa Harold , throws himself on the handset. In his haste , he puts one foot on one of Harry’s fresh paintings, and so begins his descent towards horrible bottles gouache spread on the ground . All still uncapped. Harry is an idiot .

“Why the blue face?”

Harry chuckles helping Zayn to sit up. That may be what triggered the mess that followed , Zayn was not sure , but what he knew was that he’d have to quickly change the floor of his apartment. No detergents as powerful and expensive as they could be, could fix the damage they had caused.

Zayn had initially tried to slap Harry. A slap that was perfectly justified and well deserved .

But somewhere in the middle of it, he had slipped again, this time, hands falling in the puddle of paint. Harry laughed again, followed by yet another pun .

The slap reached its goal on the second try.

Harry, immediately stopped laughing, rubbing his hand over the blue mark Zayn had left on his skin.

A few seconds passed, the two young boys glaring at each other.

Harry’s pupils were dilated , but this time, it wasn’t from excitement.

At least not at the beginning.

Harry threw himself on Zayn, with the full intention of getting him back, but his first motivations were quickly faded when he saw the ray of colours splashed across Zayn’s tanned skin .

Harry always wanted to take Zayn in a moment of vulnerability. Just like that. At least once . He took advantage of the situation.

It’s in a pool of wet paint and rigid paper that both boys lost themselves between corporal and carnal pleasures . Zayn was on his knees, Harry in a similar position behind , thrusting shallowly into him.

Both naked, their bodies covered with a thick layer of blue, Harry groaned with pleasure, while Zayn moaned in both arousal and lack of comfort. They probably woke the neighbours, but that thought was far in their minds as they were far too gone in the burning passion that bound them .

Zayn fell forward , one hand supporting his weight , the other squeezing Harry’s with all his might. Harry, holding Zayn close to him with his huge hand, shared their grip with the other.

In the middle of the night, the lights off , only the ray of moonlight illuminated their bodies, sheening with sweat. Zayn, lost it, between the hips snapping against his and Harry reaching down to grab his cock, hard and curved towards his stomach. He lost himself in the feeling of Harry’s fist stroking his length loosely, and his sharp teeth digging in the dip of his neck

-x-

Niall was apparently an expert in floors .

Zayn found himself homeless (of course he went to Harry’s! ) in about no time.

“I don’t even want to know. “ Said the blonde , seeing the huge purple hickey on Zayn’s neck that matched Harry’s still slightly blue chest.

“What are we gonna do with my paintings ?”

Zayn had stacked them in a very secluded corner of his living room, but he had to get rid of all his equipment to allow team _Horan_ to take care of his flooring properly .

“Took care of it.” Harry announced , pressing his finger on the very same lovebite. Zayn shivered

“That doesn’t mean you brunt them does it?”

“I still didn’t get to swim in them, so no.”

-x-

A week after the parquet incident, Zayn feels calmer . Louis is always a problem inside his mind, but with a raging libido that went from three times a week to twice a day, Zayn can’t find the time or energy to deal with it.

He’s also forced to help himself into Harry’s wardrobe (meaning , dress like a homeless person ) , and Harry finds mean pleasure in pushing Zayn against a wall grabbing him by the thighs, while he fucks him, legs in the air, hands gripping him tight. He’s also naked, save from Harry’s grey jumper that’s so big, he can probably fit Niall in there too.

Harry works ( pff , more like counts his pots) and Zayn’s shift starts in two hours. He can’t just remain cloistered inside. Harry lives on the other side of the street, his back to the sun , but he at least sees it when it sets.

He doesn’t see the pretty blonde who probably has purple hair at this hour, and most importantly, he doesn’t have the supermarket just under his feet.

It is in these types of moments that Zayn finds the motivation to go grocery shopping .

The store is not busy. Lunch break is over, which means that Harry probably opened his shop again .

He sees him inside, wearing a red t shirt , sleeves savagely torn off to form a tank top . He’s placing some soil pots on a shelf. Zayn was right.

Zayn pushes his cart carelessly throwing items in his cart, without bothering to look at neither the brand or the price. Dusty is also lucky that Zayn is in an I don’t give a fuck mood today, as he flips a few cans of cat food in his basket .

He doesn’t know what brand Harry takes, just that the packet is purple. Without restrain he loads the basket with all the purple cat food bags he can find .

He thinks about Harry, and their relationship. He’s been thinking about it quite a lot. Too much even.

He seems to fall more and more every day, and it’s not necessarily negative, but he’s kind of afraid Harry will not return his feelings. They’ve been together for almost a year after all.

Their couple was simple, without conditions. The rules were established without a word. Harry was easy to love, a tad naive and stubborn , but he had a big heart . Zayn probably fell for his ridiculous John Lennon glasses and flower crowns he uses as headbands.

Absorbed in his thoughts, he doesn’t see the man who is standing directly in front of him as walked around the pharmacy department

To say he was shocked was an understatement .

“Zayn … ?” said the lad as if it were a question.

Of course that was his name. The signature smile that had never failed to amaze the artist appeared instantly. Zayn was beginning to think that Liam was only smiling like that for him.

“Uh … hi .”

He tried to hide the fact that they were right in front of the lube and condoms section, but that was a just detail. Because Liam was there now and wow … Liam Christ on a bike.

“You cut your hair?”

“Yes, I was uh…told the waves looked a bit too boyish. It was getting ugly and heavy anyway.”

“I thought they were cute ….” Zayn announced in a small voice . Not that he had the opportunity to see that much of Liam’s brown hair under his ugly cap.

Liam smiled shyly , just like how he did when Zayn would tell him to keep the change. Speaking of.

“You’re not at Amanda’s anymore ? When I called , I came across a new guy.”

“No, uh. I …. Not. I’m doing some other stuff now”

He nervously scratched his cheek , biting her lip. Zayn squints his eyes. He will simply not push the subject.

“Okay. Well it was nice to see you again! I hope you succeed in your career.”

Zayn genuinely hoped that .

It’s not until he turned Harry’s spare key in the lock, arms full of plastic bags that he realized he had again forgotten to take Liam’s number.

It could be a month before Zayn would see him again. It could even be years. Oh, well.

Zayn had just enough time to feed the damn cat before work . Damn cat because, well it was mystical. Just like every other cat. But Dusty… she laid on her bed and stared at Zayn. As if she knew something he didn’t.

Or maybe she just liked to stare at people.

He lined up the different (fifteen !) food packs on the floor, and sat down behind his row , feet crossed.

“ Hey cat! Food’s up !”

Dusty almost immediately jumped from her stool , fluidly and without any sound. She slowly walked over to Zayn , alternating her gaze between the bags and the young man.

“McDonald’s standards. Choose.”

It’s as if the cat understood what he was saying. In any case, she poked with her paw, then dragged it up to her bowl .

Mystical we tell you .

-x-

Harry has not only called Amanda, he also _personally_ asked for Louis . This is something that simply cannot happen in real life.

But it is the same Louis who’s standing on the doorway, cap backwards , a turquoise jeans that would make Harry’s skinny legs pout in jealousy .

“Oh, it’s you !” Louis says happily. Seriously , he understands that the employees have to be smiling a decent while, but this outburst of joy that looks frighteningly like Liam’s only terrifies Zayn a bit more.

“Come in, Lou.”

“ … Okay.”

Louis takes a step forward. He crossed the border . He disobeyed the orders of his boss. Ha!

If it was Liam , he would have already taken several steps back , citing section 47 of chapter 3 , the third paragraph, second sentence of the sixth line from the terms and agreements of their contract.

Liam was weird like that.

Dusty instantly snuggled between the legs of the delivery boy. It took Zayn three attempts to gain the cat’s trust like that.

“Hi Zayn !” Louis beamed, putting the bags on the table. He removed his hat , revealing soft caramel colour of his hair . Zayn bit his fist to avoid whining and moaning there and now.

Harry was not as discreet .

He cleared his throat loudly , clenched his fists and flexed his muscles. Seriously .

“Stay here, don’t move, I ‘ll get my wallet .”

Oh, Harry it’s also necessary to say, Harry’s only in his boxers . He’s been trying to even his tan obviously forcing him to total nudity (not that _he_ would complain) . He at least had the decency to wear something before opening the door.

“ It’s nice here! Have you moved?”

“No.” Zayn pinches the inside of his arm to avoid doing stupid things. Like shuffling a lil to the left to close the distance between his and Louis’ body. And also between their lips.

“I’m renovating my home, and until it’s done I’m living with old Harold .”

Louis nods , not moving from his spot ( perhaps because Dusty is resting on top of his feet. Good cat).

He fixes his gaze to the board Harry has set a few months ago on the wall. Each month he pins a new picture of him and Zayn, celebrating their anniversary.

The most recent was the one Harry had taken on Zayn’s balcony, both shirtless, enjoying the middle spring sun. They will soon need to add a new pic on the set.

He smiled softly, eyes stopping on the polaroid pic where Niall had managed to insert half of his face , laughing, and probably drunk. It was one of Zayn’s favourite. That’s why Harry kept it.

“How long have you been together?” Louis broke the silence. He was simply curious

“About a year”

Nine months , the day after tomorrow. But that Louis, didn’t need to know.

“You look good together”

“Thank you.”

Louis was really the first to say that. It was clear he didn’t know he was dealing with two young mental lads fighting for the colour of his eyes.

“Here ! Here..”

Harry took a few notes and thrust them in Louis’ hands .

“You giving him all that him that?”

Harry never takes cash back.

“Louis is a very good beginner . He deserves a raise, so I’m treating him.”

If Zayn was not too busy to complain, he would’ve undoubtedly seen the card that Harry non subtly slipped between the bank notes.

-x-

_Home candy home Zee , you have a brand new sexy floor. It shines so much you can see yourself in it._

Was the text Zayn received, two days after Louis’ visit .

He’s playing restaurant with Dusty again ( she chooses tuna this time ) when his mobile vibrates loudly on Harry’s burning carpet.

He probably needs to change the ‘Niel’ drunkenly saved into his phone.

Saturday. Zayn doesn’t work . It is June the 9th , and it’s almost summer .

Also, it’s been nine months today since the first time he kissed Harry.

It was awkward and strange, but they managed handle their derpiness for that long.

Harry hadn’t even made him breakfast , not as if he did that the months prior. But still, it would have been nice.

He leaves to freshen his ideas , buy more paper for his spontaneous inspirations and smokes a whole cigarette .

Twelve minutes past twelve , the pretty blonde ( royal blue hair) jogs around him, her dog freely, trotting at her side.

She smells like wild flowers scented shower gel. But Harry also smells the flowers and it suits him much better.

He went to Harry’s shop probably three times in his life. It is not that he hated flowers, but the fact that he lived right opposite of the store not give him the feeling , nor the frank want to cross the street and push the glass door open.

The entire store was cool , sweet smell in the air added to the soft music escaping from the small radio in the corner. Zayn now understood why he never visited Harry.

Seeing him blissed and beaming in his flowery element would be another factor that would force Zayn a little further down the terrible thing that people call “falling in love”

Harry is in his corner, in the middle of a yoga pose . He breathes deeply before slowly opening his eyes. A huge clip, with a fake red rose glued on it is fixed in his hair.

He’s ridiculous really , barefoot, topless , torso and right arm covered in tattoos, but Zayn love him like that. Quirky, but genuine.

“Come here,” Harry says softly, opening his arms .

Zayn lunges himself half on him. Harry’s body is warm, soft and comforting. It feels a bit like home.

“This is new” says Zayn , rubbing his fingers over the new hair accessory. Harry nods.

“Yes, I bought it yesterday.”

“It’s pretty.”

Harry doesn’t answer, but merely cards his fingers between his the jet hair of his now boyfriend of three trimesters.

“I also took …”

Harry turns to the side to catch an object behind him. He returns to his first position , a digital camera in his hands.

“You what?”

Zayn can’t believe his eyes.

“No, I borrowed it . I damaged my polaroid the other night when we were playing with paint …”

Zayn still remembers that night , full of thrills , painting, orgasms and sweat.

“So I asked Niall to lend me his.”

In their position, it’s kind of difficult to find a way to the angle the camera, but they eventually manage. One on top of the other . With Zayn, half of his face buried in Harry’s neck his eyes closed, and Harry, a peaceful and dreamy smile stretching his face, red rose pinned in his hair.

_Hi , I came across this number , and I wonder if you’re someone I know?_

_Like the paper was in my pocket so….._

_This isn’t someone I met in a club I hope?_

_And, I ‘m Louis … and I’m starting to feel like an idiot ._

Zayn reads the texts a fourth time, Harry’s laughter ringing in the background as he ties a bow around a little flower for a small girl.

“What is this Harry? Why are you laughing ? How did he get my number ?”

Harry, still laughing, grabs the phone and briefly read the few lines .

“He told you how it happened , so I have nothing else to say.”

“But …”

“You’re always looking for the perfect blue. Louis can be your muse today if you find the right words to get him to come. When you’re finished, I’d like to call Gemma .”

“The hell I’m not”

-x-

“You’ve got … a flower in your hair.”

“And … ?”

“It’s sweet, I think …”

Louis blushes , lowering his eyes .

Zayn wonders when his life took such a turn . He remembers exactly telling Louis that it was a mistake and that he should not worry. He even signed his name.

Louis had said _oh , okay._

Zayn should’ve noticed the minute Harry mentioned the word ’ call ‘.

He should’ve seen it coming .

Louis came , a T shirt with cuffed sleeves ,denim shorts and a skin colour that Zayn was sure Harry envied him deeply .

He was now sat on a stool in front of an amused Harry and a Zayn in near tears .

“We’re going to Zayn’s. Niall said they finished refurnished.”

“What are we doing?” Louis asked , uncertain. Zayn could understand if he was in his place, he’d freak out too.

“Zayn needs a model for his art gallery. And you’re the missing piece.” Harry said simply .

The way Louis’ eyes widen was cute.

Harry had already prepared a pot for Liz, he pulled away for a moment , to knock on the old woman’s door.

Liz opens, laughing and blushing as she accepts her present . She then starts talking about one of her many grandsons .

Zayn rolls his eyes while turning the key in the lock.

Ok , first thing . He is going to end Niall’s life.

The floor is beautiful, Zayn is certain. But the orange sticky notes on the walls , the window, his little table, the closets , his _couch_ . A bit less.

And the large “We be fuckin for nine months lolz still getting som” hung just before eyes is kind of cherry on top of a veeeery steep slope.

Louis is so red it looks like he actually forgot to breathe. Zayn is pale, drowned in his shame

Of all the people he meets , he never found the person who could be mentally balanced .

“Hey! This looks great!”

Of course , Harry loves it . Zayn suspects to be part of this disaster.

“Look, a basket of … dildos . Why not . We can always use some tonight. He remembered the lube…”

Zayn turns to Louis, who it seems, is on the verge of tears .

“I swear I didn’t know . I swear I just wanted to draw you. I assure you we had nothing else planned with you. Swear on my life I just wanted ..Oh my god what the fuck?”

Harry returns with his hands full of little foil packets, obviously condoms, but how could Niall come across so much stuff? It was a pure mystery.

“A piñata filled with condoms! This is too cool! I’m gonna order some more .”

-x-

“How was I supposed to know you were going to have a guest? I had everything ready for you to thrust so hard you’d break that rusty couch because honestly you need to replace it , but shit, can you not do that elsewhere? Me uncle won’t be happy .

Zayn shrugged placing his easel in front of him. Bottles of blue paint (honestly , Zayn used wall paint sometimes to finish his works. It gave them more character or something like that. The only drawback was that it was crumbling too quickly… But for Louis , he got his special equipment out. )

They were installed in the break room of the DIY store, after managing to convince Louis with a crown of jasmine flowers and a snickers bar ( he was tired of fruit for tea at Amanda’s).

Zayn used his forearm to mix the colours. They just looked lifeless on a palette. He tried several shades , several variations . He approached more or less that perfection that he was trying to reach , but he would miss an item, each time he thought he did it.

He drew the whole picture of the boy , honouring the warm colour of her hair and the golden tint of his skin. But it still wasn’t enough.

It’s nearly been an hour and Louis is still sat down on the couch, staring at a crack on the wall. He wouldn’t say that he’s bored , because really, he had nothing better to do today.

Niall was laughing silently after being hit three times on the head with a paint roll because he shouted too much. Today was apparently semi-finals on dumb factor and he was unbearable. Forced to mute the TV , it doesn’t whatsoever put him off the show.

Harry was at a colour chart, as if they were suddenly going to reveal all their secrets. It took years to perfect his knowledge. Harry would simply not succeed to discover their secret by simply looking . Maybe that was the difficulty. Zayn knew too much , and lost himself in his knowledge .

“Louis say ..”

“Hmm ?”

“How would you describe the colour of your eyes?”

“Uh … blue ?”

Harry snorted in his corner dropping his face in his hands . Zayn made the same gesture. He spent weeks trying to find the perfect tone, and there had his hopes crushed in less than five seconds.

It’s never gonna happen . He’ll die without piercing the secret of blue. There are thousands of them , however, Zayn has not managed to find _the_ shade. He failed , that’s it. He’ll let Niall finish the drawing. He will probably choose an ugly blue for the eyes, or maybe even pink or brown.

“I don’t understand why you make it so difficult.” Harry says, as if he had not tried _too many times_ to find the right colour. Or maybe he did it to just support Zayn morally .

“Blue is blue look at this range , there’s plenty of blue but it’s still blue you see? It’s not turquoise or sky blue or navy, it’s a blue a little different than another blue.”

“ Harry you’re not helpi-“

He’s cut by the long shriek that fills the room . Niall is standing a few inches away from the TV, arms raised in the air.

“Niall why are so close to the TV? And why the hell are you crying?”

“He’s been voted off!” exclaims the blonde.

“You know Niall , “ Harry adds his corner, “I always knew you had a talent for lip-reading. Even off camera. Your theory on the 360 peripheral vision might be true.”

“Sympathize a little dear old Harry. Look, Niall have a tissue.”

Zayn throws a packet towards the blond who doesn’t even do so much as react when the box hits his shoulder

“Zayn ! Zayn ! Liam ! Voted off in the semi-finals! You hear me? He went so far! It had to stop there ? I’m crying for him this is so sad!”

Zayn turns so fast he almost snaps a vein in his neck.

“What did you just say?”

“LIAM LOOK AT HIM!! IT’S SO SAD !”

Niall grabs Zayn by the shoulders and shakes vigorously . Zayn has just time to see the brown eyes he knows so well, both large and filled with tears . The smile that is usually always there is now turned into a sad and sorry pout.

“This isn’t the end Liam ! This is just the beginning! You can do it! Uh Zayn we believe in him !”

Niall grabs Zayn again.

And Zayn faints.

-x-

Green. Not green jade or emerald or forest.

Harry Green .

Harry smiling at him, gently pulling him from the unconsciousness .

“Ni shook you a little too hard . You hit your head on his large brush I think.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Harry presses a wet compress on his forehead.

“ We’re home. Louis had to bring Niall home too. He cried so hard, a lady who had come to buy a range like mine thought we were giving birth.”

“You knew about Liam ?”

Harry shakes his head

“Nope . But apparently Niall knew from the beginning.”

“Crazy that…”

Zayn was thinking about the last time he had seen Liam . New haircut , and evasiveness . Zayn suspected something was happening at the time , but not as huge.

He always wished the best for Liam . Even if he was sad and a little bit angry that Liam didn’t tell him anything.

“We had a pretty eventful evening. I think we will use Niall’s basket another time.”

“Good idea. I’ve got terrible headache.”

Harry has not yet put the horrible banner down . Or tore off the superb obnoxious drawing pinned to the wall. They would probably do all that tomorrow.

“Here, made you some soup.”

“What is it?”

“Er, chicken noodles,” the curly haired boy answered shyly.

Zayn now realizes how much he loves him. He loves package Harry that comes without a shirt , with flowers and a sweet smell , dragging behind him a heavy bag of pasta and chicken , and an evil cat.

He loves Harry as he is, with his green eyes . Harry Green .

Just Niall blue . A colour which is unique.

The pretty blonde , brunette now also has her own shade.

Louis has a rare blue. But it is because there is only one Louis like that .

It’s not the external appearance which makes the object, but the spirit closed within.

These are all blue, but a little bit different is all.

Harry is a person, like every person, but a little different. His friendship with Niall should be chaotic, yet it works perfectly . Louis has surely become a new member of their mental family , but there is no problem with that.

“You know, I think I fell in love with you the day you came to my with your picnic basket and your hideous pink fork, under the pretext that you thought my balcony was the terrace of a restaurant.”

Zayn hates pasta and chicken , but it doesn’t bother him to eat some only if his old Harold makes them.

-x-

They spend the Sunday sunbathing and lazily kissing . Harry didn’t push his hair back today, which cover almost half of his face, but it gives Zayn the rare chance on threading his fingers through the lick curls.

“We should ask Niall where he found all the sex stuff”

Zayn is worried about him . Niall could get into serious trouble , even if Zayn was sure the blonde one would manage to make the police coo and fuss sweetly over him if he ever came across them.

“Probs a frat party that he’s managed to get into God only knows however he managed to do that.”

Zayn giggles and turns to face the window, shining in the sunlight. The sky is clear , bare of any clouds. Its colour is blue. Blue sky.


End file.
